


Where Does the Good Go

by bethevibeyouseek



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 18:27:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30127005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethevibeyouseek/pseuds/bethevibeyouseek
Summary: After avenging the death of her daughter Debbie, Bea returns back to Wentworth for good. The new Top Dog is welcomed back by everyone...well, almost everyone.
Relationships: Franky Doyle/Bea Smith
Comments: 5
Kudos: 18





	Where Does the Good Go

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, hi there Ao3. It's been a hot minute.

Once the women had all retreated to their cells, Bea was finally left alone once more. She felt like one weight had been lifted from her chest knowing she had finally avenged Debbie's death. The Holt’s were no longer a threat, and she no longer had anything else to lose. But now was time to pay the price. The newly appointed Top Dog tentatively opened the cell door across from hers. Inside she saw Franky fiddling with the splint on her wrist. Upon hearing the door open, Franky stopped and crossed her arms protectively over her chest. Neither spoke, instead green eyes bored into brown. Bea held up a box of Franky’s favorite chocolates, hoping that her peace offering would mean something. Silently Franky cocked her eyebrows, waiting for an explanation.  
  
“I’m sorry, Franky. It was just something I had to do,” Bea parroted words that Franky had used on her not long ago. If Franky hadn’t been totally heartbroken, perhaps she would have laughed at the role reversal. As it was, she was too tired and hurt to do anything.  
  
“You used me,” the brunette finally managed to speak, her voice wavering uncharacteristically.  
  
“And you haven’t used me?” Bea shook her head in disbelief as she set the box on the edge of Franky’s bed.  
  
“Not like that!” Franky used the heel of her shoe to push the chocolates off her bed, letting them crash to the floor. There would be no peace offering that could ease the pain that Franky felt inside her.  
  
“Oh really? Getting me to smuggle in drugs on my first day? Or did you forget that I spent a week in the slot because of you?”  
  
“That was before!” Franky struggled to keep her voice low. This was the last thing she needed the other women to hear.  
  
“Before what?” Bea crossed her arms over her chest and waited.  
  
“Before...this,” Franky whispered, her uninjured hand motioning to the space between them. What on earth would they call each other? Mortal enemies by day, cuddle buddies by night? Under cover lovers? Nothing sounded quite right. Absentmindedly she reached for the small knife-nick over the thin skin of her neck. She could still see the look on the redhead's face as she pressed the blade against her.  
  
“How?” Franky asked simply.  
  
“I got Marge to give me some of her blood clotting pills. It had to be bad enough to put me in hospital, and I knew they couldn’t cuff slashed wrists.”  
  
“How long had you been planning it?” Had she been plotting Franky’s downfall while laying in bed with her wrapped in her arms? Franky had experienced the pain of betrayal before, but nothing could prepare her for this.  
  
If Bea wasn’t mistaken, she could have sworn she saw the clouded shadow of tears over Franky’s emerald eyes. Taking a risk, Bea kneeled in front of her, placing her hands on Franky’s knees. Up close she could see the damage her punches had caused. Franky’s jaw was still swollen and bruised.  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
“Would you have killed me?” Franky somehow found the courage to whisper.  
  
When Bea didn’t respond quickly enough, Franky pushed Bea’s hands off her knees and turned to lay facing the wall, shutting her out completely.  
  
“Franky…” Bea rose from her knees to sit on the edge of the bed. She hesitated before reaching to brush a gentle hand over Franky’s bare shoulder. Bea traced the lines of her tattoo for the thousandth time.  
  
“I knew it wouldn’t come to that.”  
  
“And how’s that?”  
  
“Because you're a smart woman. You up for parole in what, a year? Do you really want to risk your future all for a stupid title?”  
  
“It’s more than that and you know it.”  
  
“You have too much to lose to-“  
  
“Just shut up. You haven’t seen the way they look at me now like I’m a fucking leper or something. They’re starving me out, thanks to you.”  
  
“It will pass. I’ll make sure it does,” Bea did her best to reassure her. The guilt was already rearing its ugly head in her stomach. She hadn’t considered the implications against Franky from the other inmates.  
“I don’t need your fucking help,” Franky glanced over her shoulder with nothing but hatred in her eyes.  
  
“Then what do you want me to do?” Silence fell upon the pair as Bea waited for Franky to speak. Wordlessly Franky sat back up and turned to face her.  
  
“Nothin,” Franky whispered as she shrugged her shoulders. “You made your choice.”  
  
“Franky, I’m sorry. You know that I-” Bea reached out only to be met with a hard press of  
  
Franky’s palms against her shoulders. Stay away. Their trust was breached, and Bea had no one to blame but herself.  
  
“Fuck off,” Franky warned sternly. Finally giving up, Bea nodded silently and turned away.  
  
“Was it worth it?” Franky whispered just as Bea reached for the handle to her cell door. Bea sighed, suddenly understanding Franky’s anger wasn’t in the loss of her power, but the loss of her.  
  
“It would have never worked, you know that.” Franky’s sorrowful eyes looked up from the floor and connected with Bea’s own. "Got any advice for me?"  
  
Franky looked at her incredulously, "You want some advice from the former reigning Top Dog?"  
  
"From my... uh.. hopefully... friend?" Bea asked tentatively, unsure of what would become of the uncertainty of their current standing. Franky’s wide smile returned.  
  
"Sure, Red... you should watch your back. Take it from me, the fall from the Top is pretty painful. The people you open yourself up to might just grab it out from under ya when ya least expect it.” Bea nodded solemnly at the brunette’s words. “If you cross me again, you’re dead. And I won’t need a box cutter to make that happen,” she threatened without an ounce of emotion on her face. Bea’s heart sank in her chest.  
  
“I really am sorry, Franky,” Bea whispered one last time as she opened the cell door.  
  
“Good luck, Queen Bea,” Franky called out one last time as the door closed, leaving her alone once more.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and constructive feedback is always welcome!


End file.
